


You Can't Have Your Cake

by wefellasangels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Other, Reader-Insert, accident prone reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 14:49:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4183935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wefellasangels/pseuds/wefellasangels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just supposed to be a simple hike in the woods - but you're never that lucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can't Have Your Cake

**Author's Note:**

> requested by @sometimes-musics-the-only-way on tumblr

_This was a stupid idea. This was a stupid idea. This was a_ really _stupid idea…_

The mantra plays on a loop in your head as you watch your food supply float further and further away from you as it travels downstream.

 _Go on a camping trip_ , you told yourself yesterday. _Some forest air will do you some good_ , you convinced yourself. It was all crap and you knew it.

You were now a full day into your hike and had lost all your food. You don’t even know how it happened…You put your bag of food down for not even ten seconds and then…boom. All of it. Gone.

You sit down by the steam and run your hands over your face, wincing slightly. You look at your hand and scoff. A fresh bee sting. Another friendly reminder that you and the elements are best left operating independently of each other.

After about twenty minutes of re-evaluating your life choices, you stand up and prepare to head back home. “No sense in dying here,” you say out loud.

“You have a particular preference?”                                                                                   

You turn around and see Gabriel leaning against a tree.

 “I mean – if dying in the middle of a forest doesn’t do it for you, I’m sure we can come up with something more… _interesting_.” He winks at you.

“Gabriel,” you begin, startled. “What are you doing here?”

He walks toward you, hands in his pockets. “Well, I noticed that some of your…provisions have left camp.” He shrugs his shoulders. “And I’m a nice guy, so I figured _What the hell_? I can help a friend out.”

The angel smirks, takes a hand out of his pocket, and snaps his fingers. A picnic table covered end to end in food appears. Your eyes widen.

“Uh…thank – thank you…”

Gabriel smiles at you. “Shall we?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” And the two of you take a seat on each side of the table. You look at the food on the table and silently laugh to yourself: it’s all desert. There are cakes and pies and brownies, ice cream sundaes, cupcakes, chocolate-covered everything – the works.

“Is there anything of substance – “

“What’s wrong with your hand?” Gabriel interrupts, looking at the bee sting worriedly.

You give a short, self-deprecating laugh. “Just me being bad luck on two legs.”

“Well, let’s take a look at that,” he takes your hand in his and within seconds, the bee sting vanishes.

“Nice,” you say appreciatively, looking at your healed hand. “Thanks – again.”

“Don’t mention it,” he winks and disappears.

 

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER

 

After the picnic, you decided to keep on with your trip. You packed as much food as possible from the table into your backpack and carried on.

Now you continue your hike, determined to see your camping trip through to the end. _As long as I’m careful, I can get through this_ , you repeat to yourself as you trip over yet another pine cone. _I can get through –_

A thick tree branch suddenly falls right in front of you and you scream, a string of choice words escaping your mouth. You jump back in time as the heavy branch narrowly misses you. Heart pounding, you put a hand over you face and take a minute to compose yourself. Once calm, you step over the fallen branch and keep walking.

Less than twenty steps later, your feet become stuck and the ground begins to sink. You try to take a step forward, but to no avail. You continue sinking and chuckle bitterly. “Oh you’ve _got_ to be kidding me!” you yell. “Freakin’ _quicksand_?” _I don’t think I can even be…properly angry anymore_ , you think irritably. _I should really just start_ expecting _everything to go to shit._

“You really are the poster child for rotten luck, aren’t you?” Gabriel stands about a foot in front of you, appraising your situation with raised eyebrows. “Remind me never to invite you to Vegas.”

You look at him with pleading eyes. “Could you – “

He snaps his fingers and you look down at your feet – the quicksand is gone. A sigh of relief and you lift your head back up to thank him, but he’s disappeared again.

 _I think this trip is over_ , you decide. You turn around and begin to head back home.

 

SIX HOURS LATER

 

You set out your sleeping bag for the second night. The temperature has dropped at least fifteen degrees, there is a full moon, and all the nocturnal animals have emerged from their sleep. You lay on your back and stare at the sky, eyes wide open and ears attentive.

Just as you start drifting off to sleep, you hear a noise in the trees. You sit up abruptly and look around. You see nothing.

 _This isn’t a movie_ , you tell yourself. _There is no way nothing made that sound – don’t you dare go back to sleep._ Half-asleep, you reluctantly crawl out of your sleeping bag, stand, and go investigate. When you look through the trees, you see an orange light in the distance. As you keep staring, it grows larger and larger in size.

“Crap…crap, crap,” you keep repeating. You start packing up your campsite as quickly as possible, hoping that, despite the darkness, you don’t leave anything behind. You can already feel the heat of the fire approaching.

Finally packed, you run. At this point, you can’t tell which direction you’re going, but regardless it will be toward some kind of safety. You look over your shoulder for a second and see the fire advancing. You turn back around and try to pick up your pace, but before you can, you trip over another pine cone and fall.

“Never going camping again,” you mutter as you pick yourself back up. Before you can get too far, you run into something and fall back down.

“Slow down, Speedy! Where’s the fire?”

You look up and see Gabriel. “You seriously did not just say that.”

“What can I say,” he shrugs. “It came to me in the heat of the moment. Couldn’t resist.” He wags his eyebrows and helps you off the ground. You start to run, but the angel grabs your arm and stops you from leaving.

“Um, the fire – “

“Don’t worry – I’ve got this.” He waves his hand in a sweeping motion, and the fire dissipates. “See? Easy.” 

You run your hand over your face. “Thanks, Gabriel. Again,” you give a small laugh.

“No problem,” he replies, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?”

He places two fingers on your forehead and you wince slightly. Bruises you hadn’t realized you acquired are healed…and you’re pretty certain some skin damage due to the fire is taken care of as well. He breaks contact and you’re about to say thank you, but another thought enters your head first.

“Wait…was any of this…real?” you ask tentatively.

“What? All of _this_? Your entire two days of camping?”

“Yeah.”

“What makes you think it wasn’t?” he asks, a little too innocently.

“Well – I mean…well you’re –“

“The Trickster?”

“Yeah!”

Gabriel just shrugs his shoulders. “If it makes you feel any better – which it probably won’t – it was real enough for me.”

You give a short laugh. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

He walks up to you and gives you a hug. You return it. “Don’t worry about it,” he says.

He steps back and smiles, putting one hand in his pocket. He winks, snaps his fingers, and disappears.

 _Don’t worry about it_ , his voice echoes in your mind. You sigh and turn around. You’re suddenly standing in front of your house. You knit your brows in confusion and look behind you. The forest is gone and you’re back home. You shake your head and try to ignore the obvious lack of logic. As you get closer to the front door, you see something sitting right in front of it. You lean down to get a closer look.

It’s a basket filled with various candies and other sweets. On the handle there’s a handwritten note. You get a flashlight from your backpack, shine the beam on the paper, and read:

_You may be a gravitational pull for all things bad, but at least today wasn’t Tuesday._


End file.
